To Whom It May Concern
by Embre Kay
Summary: A Memoir, written from the point of view of Moriah Brun, a 18 year old victor's daughter, writing to herself in the future, after her memory is wiped. It differs from the series in that it is written as though the rebellion failed.
1. Prologue

In every story  
there are two;

_Two sides,  
Two people,  
Two different points of view._

The purpose of the reader  
Is to determine

_Which is more pleasant,  
Which is more entertaining,  
Which is the truth._

The story I'm about to tell,  
If you could call it that,

_Isn't pleasant,  
Isn't entertaining,  
But it is the truth_.

And in this story,  
there are two;

_Two sides,  
Two people,  
__Two different points of view._

It's mine versus the Capitol's.

They did something

_To your brain  
To your memories  
To your life._

Changed it.

My job is to

_Make you remember me  
Make you remember your life  
Make you remember everything._

Don't worry; Soon you'll

_Remember the happiness  
Remember the despair,  
Remember everything you use to know._

All you have to do is trust me, and I'll tell you what I know; the truth.


	2. Part One: A Brief Introduction

If you're  
reading this,  
it means that  
the Capitol has  
screwed with your

_mind_

_memory_

_life;_

that they've changed  
everything,  
replacing your memory  
with figments of  
their own design.

This may sound  
outlandish,  
and totally  
ridiculous  
but you need to

_trust me_

_believe me_

_listen to me_.

I have what you're  
Missing.  
And I hope to  
Fill in the  
gaps.

Maybe if I  
Tell you about  
Me.  
My life may  
Jog the memories of

_Your Famil__y_

_Your Friends_

_Your Life._

It's hard to  
Explain, but  
It could really help,  
and I'll try  
anything at this point.

I can't tell  
My name.  
This may sound  
Odd, but if I told you,  
You'd think

_I was joking_

_I was crazy_

_I was lying._

So I'm not revealing  
My identity  
Quite yet.  
My story is the  
Important part anyway.

_The worst was_

the day of reaping for  
The Third Quarter Quell.  
It was a particularly humid,  
Scorcher of an afternoon.  
I remember

_Watching_

The victors in the roped off area.  
My father was among them,  
The winner of the 59th games,  
And a District four victor.  
His name wasn't called but

_My Father_

Was going to be the mentor.  
Not that they needed one.  
I thought everything would be  
Okay though. I knew that he  
Was going to live for sure, not

_Die_

Some horrible death in the arena.  
I thought he'd be back soon,  
In one piece. What I didn't  
Know is that he was still in danger.  
That he was going to leave me all

_Alone._

I guess he didn't leave me  
_ Alone _alone,

But at times it felt like it.  
I still had my mother though,  
And somehow,  
Together,  
We survived.

You see, when the  
Force field around the arena  
_Shattered_  
We were taken into custody.  
Not that we knew anything,  
But it everyone who was  
Or was related to  
A victor was taken into  
Custody and

_Questioned?_

**TORTURED**

And Interrogated.

I was only fifteen at the time.


	3. Part Two: Anxious

I remember the day like it was yesterday;  
The first day I was taken into the Capitol

Prison.

I'd been separated from my mother and the  
Others from four. Peacekeepers practically  
Shoved me down the hallways, and I remember  
Shaking; my hands, my knees, everything. I

Was

Always shaking then, like a scared little  
Bird that never had a chance to fly.  
It was my anxiety; I had periodic panic  
Attacks; they always made me stop breathing,  
Sending me quivering and shaking,  
Until I thought I'd died and gone to

Hell.

Then it'd be over so suddenly.  
All the nervous tension let out  
That I'd been holding

In

For so long, released until the next time.  
I had panic attacks often in Prison.  
It was their form of torture, I guess;

A

Unique mix of every trigger possible  
That would set me off, shaking and  
Sobbing, curling into a ball in the corner  
Of my room, which was literally  
Like an empty, bright white

Box.

Everything seems to  
Piss me off  
Since I got out of there.  
I often find myself filled  
With chaotic, unprecedented  
Fury  
For no apparent reason.  
Everyone and everything  
Aggravates me.  
When I snap at him,  
Dorian says  
That it isn't  
my fault;  
That it's because  
Of the capitol;  
A standard reaction  
To the  
cruelty and Agony  
I was subjected to.  
I think he's being too nice,  
But Dorian always was  
A saint.  
I guess he's not totally wrong though;  
They definitely  
Screwed up my brain,  
Well more than it already was.

They say that the most painful memories  
Are the most

** Powerful**

So maybe recounting my  
Experiences in the Capitol call  
Will help jog your  
Memories.  
Return them to  
The truth.

Bear with me then;  
It won't be pretty.  
That cell was like a  
Custom made  
Horror film,  
All of my worst  
Nightmares,  
Come out to play.


	4. Part Three: The Beginning

When it became  
C L E A R  
To the capitol  
That my mother and I knew  
Nothing  
About the uprisings,  
Or any plan to rebel,  
We were used

As bargaining chips

As instruments of torture

As weapons against my father,

The one who might have actually  
Had some information.  
He was  
Forced to watch,  
H e l p l e s s,  
As we were

Beaten

Bruised

Tortured.

It was an effective  
Double-edged  
Form of warfare;  
Brilliant, really.  
To use us to  
Crack him.

Not that he wasn't  
Tortured.  
My dad took plenty of

Blows,

Hits,

And assorted forms of torture,

At least if the  
Prominent bruises that  
Covered his body  
Were any  
Indication.  
I never saw  
It though.  
I only saw him  
Once, on the first day.  
After that,  
It was always his

Yelling

Protesting

Agonizing screams

That I heard.  
Th_at let me know_  
He was  
still alive.

I clung desperately to the

_Screaming;_

As odd as that sounds.  
It seemed like while all these  
Horrible things were happening,  
It was my one sign that Daddy  
Was alive. Was surviving. And

_For_

Me, that meant hope.  
I guess it goes with the whole 'father'  
Thing. We grew up believing that dads  
And moms were there for us, that they'd save  
Us from suffering, and they'd

_Help_

Us survive in a cruel world.

On the first few  
Days I spent in the  
Prison,  
The torture was mild;  
Just your basic  
Sleep and sensory  
Deprivation.  
I would be  
S h o c k e d  
Every time my eyes  
D  
R  
O  
O  
P  
E  
D  
Shut,  
Effectively keeping me  
Awake, scared, and frustrated.  
It was constantly  
Silent and  
Dark.  
I was dazed,  
Exhausted,  
And drowsy.  
I was kept this way  
For 72 hours,  
Before they  
Interrogated  
Me, using loud words  
And long phrases  
That my  
_Tired_  
JMUBDEL up brain  
Couldn't comprehend.

Still, the worst was yet to come.


	5. Part Four: Fears and Phobias

After Interrogation,  
I was allowed to  
Sleep.  
I knew  
Nothing.  
It was obvious.  
I thought they'd  
Leave me alone.  
**I was just kidding myself.**

They played with  
_Me._  
Screwed with  
_My mind._  
Unraveled  
_My sanity._  
Chewed me up  
And spit me out  
Like a piece of  
Gum, flavor long gone.

My biggest  
Tangible  
Fear,  
Is snakes.  
I get light-headed just  
Thinking about them.  
The way they move,  
Slithering soundlessly  
Just freaks  
Me out.

Of course the  
Capitol knew this.  
When I left  
Interrogation,  
I was injected with  
_something_  
But what I wasn't  
Certain.

I lay in my cell,  
Sleep overtaking me  
Immediately.  
When I awoke  
Hours later,  
My skin felt like  
It was crawling;  
Long, narrow bumps  
Slithered  
beneath the surface,  
hissing.  
Snakes.  
In my skin.

My fingernails were  
Useless against them;  
They only succeeded  
In forming angry  
Red gashes down my  
Arms and legs.  
I remember screaming,  
Yelling,  
Fainting,  
Dizziness over taking me  
Again and again.

Everything was  
Hazy,  
Like a distant dream.  
Or nightmare.  
It must have been  
Hours  
Or days  
Before it wore off.  
The vision fading,  
Allowing me back into  
Reality,  
Where there were  
No snakes beneath my  
Skin,  
Just the claw marks  
From myself,  
As proof it wasn't  
A dream.

Solitary was the obvious

_Next_

Step. Leave a panicking  
Teenager in a white room,  
Without anyone.  
Without food.  
Nothing to do  
But gaze

_Up,_

And wonder how long  
Until they'd let me die.

_The_

Loneliness was crippling.  
For a while, I wished  
For a familiar face.  
Then I just wanted  
Somebody. Anybody.  
A real face, one  
From reality,  
Not in my

_Nightmares_

I thought for sure  
That was the  
Worst of it.  
That they'd taken  
My worst fear and  
Shoved it inside of me,  
Then left me  
Hungry and lonely  
To deal with the debris,  
And that anything else  
Could never be as  
Horrible.  
_I was wrong._  
To this day I cannot  
Look Dorian in the  
Eye.  
Will not  
Touch him.  
To do either  
Pains me,  
Sends shocks of  
Agonizing memory  
Through my brain.

It's shame.

It's fear.

It's guilt.

Over something  
I couldn't control.


	6. Part Five: Lonely

In solitary,  
I'd wanted

_Anyone._

Just a real face  
To take away the  
Razor edge of  
Loneliness.  
To break out  
Of the white walls  
And remind me  
That I was real. To

_Hear_

Me, and save me  
From the prison.  
After days left  
Isolated,  
It came, in the form of  
Dorian.  
It never even occurred to

_Me_

That it was a mutt.  
A capitol trick.  
I was just so  
Excited  
To see a  
Familiar face.  
But I learned pretty quick  
That his presence meant  
Pain. Humiliation.  
Endless Agonizing

_Screaming._

I remember when  
He first came into my  
Cell, looking up  
At him,  
Through hazy, drowsy  
Eyes. Thinking I was  
Dreaming. He had a  
Soothing voice,  
Low and sweet  
Just like always.  
His hand was outstretched,  
His approach was quiet.  
His expression was comforting.  
I had no reason to  
Suspect anything.  
It occurred to me  
That he was there to  
Rescue me.  
**I'm struck again and again by my stupidity.**

Before I'd been taken to  
The Capitol,  
I'd never really had an  
Interest in boys.  
Or other people in general.  
Other teenagers tended to  
A v o i d

Me

Because I had social  
Anxiety, and  
Was prone to panic  
In even _slightly_  
Stressful situations.  
I used to s-st-stutter too,  
Up until I had gotten  
Out of the Capitol  
Actually.  
So I'd never really  
Been close to  
Anyone.  
I'd never even been  
_Kissed._  
The very idea  
Of being close  
To anyone,  
Would send me into  
A tizzy.

I remember opening  
My mouth to speak,  
My voice hoarse from  
Disuse.  
He shook his head,  
Silencing me,  
Bending down to be  
At my level.  
I remember the  
Chill that went up  
My spine when he  
Uttered my name.  
His tone was unfamiliar;  
It implied something  
I didn't at the time understand;  
_Lust._


	7. Part Six: Shamed

**Warning for this Chapter; Just so you know its coming. Don't worry, it isn't detailed at all. ~Embre Kay**

* * *

I remember being  
Unsettled;  
I at least understood  
Enough to know  
Something was off.  
I stumbled  
Away  
From the mutt,  
Who was advancing,  
Now in a  
Less gentle way.  
His face began to shift,  
Becoming  
More and more  
Animalistic;  
His eyes morphed from  
Gentle, dopey blue,  
To Sharp, Red and Black  
Slits.  
His fingers grew,  
Elongating and  
Shifting into  
Claws.  
His whole body  
Seemed to  
Transform until  
He didn't resemble  
Anything.  
Just a monster  
Whipped up by  
The Capitol.

I tried to push him away as he advanced,  
But weeks of not exhaustion  
and not eating left me weak. And

_He_

Knew it. I was no match for  
A genetically engineered mutt.  
He shoved himself onto me;

_Took_

Advantage of my obvious weakness.  
I struggled, but I didn't have much fight left.  
His claws ripped through my clothing,  
The same outfit I'd been wearing for the past weeks;  
I'd been wearing it when I was captured.  
The fabric was reduced to tatters,

_Everything_

Ruined completely beyond repair.  
In my shame I tried to shrink back  
From him, tried to cover myself.  
He tore through my cover,  
Leaving angry red gashes across my skin

_From_

His claws as he pushed my arms and legs away.  
I remember crying, Begging, pleading, screaming  
for him to stop. Despite my objections,  
the mutt showed no mercy; painfully,  
It shoved its way into

_Me._

I remember  
Curling into a  
Ball on the floor  
When it was over,  
Naked and ashamed,  
Crying and screaming  
For what I'd lost.  
Gone was the mutt,  
But it'd be back,  
Not that I  
Knew it at the time.  
At that moment,  
All I knew was that  
It was over.  
At least for a while.


	8. Part Seven: The Visitor

The first time was the worst.  
The second time, I still struggled,  
Crying and cursing and screaming.  
After that I just took it;  
The protesting just made it worse,  
And part of me hoped that  
If I took it they would think  
That it didn't hurt me anymore,  
And they'd stop.  
Of course that wasn't the case.  
They did other things to me,  
Of course,  
But that was the worst.

It was about 6 weeks when  
I realized something during a  
Particularly gruesome torture session.  
I couldn't hear my father anymore;  
The whole time I was there,  
Like I've said before,  
That's how I knew he was okay;  
He'd scream for my mother and I,  
And we'd know he was alive.  
But he wasn't there;  
His voice was gone.  
That was the first time that it  
Occurred to me he might've been  
Dead and Gone.

It was almost two months when  
I'd almost given up on any hope of

_rescue._

I wasn't optimistic anymore;  
I was to the point where I just wished  
That they'd get it over with and  
Kill me. The torture was pointless and

_came_

So often I was starting to feel numb;  
It bothered me of course, but I was just dead.  
Imagine my surprise when the door  
Creaked open, and the eyes that peered in

_At_

Me didn't belong to a mutt,  
But rather were distinctly human.  
I remember curling up into a corner,  
Naked, dehyradted, and hungry,  
Wondering if they were going to  
Put me out of my misery at

_Last;_

**After all, It wasn't like I knew anything anyway.**

Before I was captured,  
I remember lying in the sand  
With Dorian as he  
waved his hand Across the stars,  
pointing out constellations,  
telling the stores behind them.  
Everything was quiet;  
It always seemed to be  
When he spoke;  
Like the whole world wanted to  
Listen to his words.  
His voice was always quiet,  
Yet brimming with  
Enthusiasm.  
I remember thinking,  
Probably for the first time,  
How odd it was to be so close.  
It never fazed me before  
But something about that night just  
Made me feel unsettled;  
Like something was changing.  
We'd always been close friends,  
But just friends.  
I remember Dorian exhaling softly  
As he finished his story,  
The sudden shift in the air as  
Silence fell upon us.  
We must've stayed like that  
For hours,  
Or minutes really but it felt like  
Forever until he moved.  
I remember the feeling of his  
Toned arms sliding around my waist,  
Pulling me close;  
His calloused hands brushing my cheek,  
Tilting up my chin;  
His chapped lips brushing against mine;  
I didn't panic like I normally would've.  
Instead I felt calm;  
Like everything was perfect  
in the world.

_I didn't feel that calm when his face peeked through the doorway of the cell._  
_Instead I felt rising panic and shame, thinking that it was another type of Capitol-brand torture._


	9. Part Eight: Rescue

His approach was

soft,

Gentle,

Cautious,

_Incredulous…_

His face a mask of concern.  
He crept through the doorway,  
His eyes showing his disbelief  
As he took in me and my

numerous scars,

protruding ribcage,

startling nudity,

_frightened face…_

I thought maybe it was  
A dream, or perhaps  
Déjà vu, like the first time  
The mutt came.  
I was certain this was a  
Horrible sign.  
His voice was

soothing,

Reassuring,

Comforting,

_Hesitant…_

As if his doubts were the  
Same as mine. He crept closer,  
Extending his hand.  
He whispered my name.  
I whimpered as he neared,  
In physical pain at his presence.  
I huddled into the corner,  
Yelling at him not to come near;  
He told me

to calm down,

To stand up,

To follow him;

_That we were going to get out of there…_

I didn't believe him at first;  
I just lay, curled up,  
Sobbing and yelling,  
While he stood there calmly.  
I remember watching as he  
Removed his jacket,  
Feeling panicked at what I  
Was certain came next;  
Then blinking in surprise  
When he gave it to me,  
Telling me to cover myself.  
I did, albeit with some confusion.  
He smiled; said that It'd be okay.  
Then Dorian hoisted me off the ground;  
The contact made my body shudder.  
He ignored it, still smiling at me as  
Dorian carried me out of the  
Whiteness of the Capitol cell.  
I didn't look him in the eye;  
I couldn't. I could hardly stand  
Simply being near him,  
Even as he carried me down  
The hallway to salvation.

District Thirteen had staged  
A rescue for those in the jail;  
It was for that victor,  
The 12 dude from last year  
For his fiancée, the one on fire  
or whatever; the mockingjay  
They rest of us were just lucky  
That they wanted him.  
Dorian had gone with the group;  
The saved most of the people in there;  
Annie, my mother, Johanna, and more  
That I'd heard of or seen at some point  
Or another.  
The one person that wasn't in the group  
Of the saved was my father.  
Dorian said they couldn't find him.  
That he'd looked everywhere  
But he was nowhere to be found;  
Mom's still grieving, almost 3 years later.  
Dorian says he could still be alive,  
But he always has been an optimist.


	10. Interlude

I'm supposing that you're  
Probably _curious_  
As to why I haven't directly  
Addressed you in a while;  
You'll have to forgive me.  
Its easy for one to get  
Caught up in one's past.  
I'm hoping that you're starting to

Figure it out,

Figure out the truth,

And most importantly, Remember.

_But I digress…._.  
I'm not sure if this'll  
Work anyway. It was  
Dorian's idea but I'll  
Get to that later.  
Knowing you you're probably  
Sick of this;  
Everyone saying you

Have Lost it,

Don't know yourself,

Don't remember..

I'd be annoyed too.  
And it's okay;  
I trust you, don't worry.  
I guess all I can do  
Is tell you to trust yourself  
And keep reading,  
Even if it seems like  
My story has nothing to do  
With yours.  
Just keep going.


	11. Part Nine: Awake

I don't remember the hovercraft ride to  
District thirteen. I just remember waking  
Hours later in Thirteen's hospital,  
Dorian's hand clamped around mine  
While he dozed in a chair beside me.

The

Room was bright white, and there was  
Morphling pumping through my system;  
Everything felt blurry and out of focus  
Like a piece of abstract art. There were  
No windows in the room, no indication that the

Sun

Was rising or falling or even there. That  
Was the first time I realized thirteen was  
Underground. I remember panicking when  
I woke; frightened and confused. Even  
Dorian's placid face didn't soothe me like it

Always

Did before. It just added to my anxiety;  
I thought I was dreaming, that I was still  
In the capitol waiting to be tortured. I  
Curled into the blankets of the bed, my eyes  
Trained on Dorian, afraid it would dissipate into  
A dream; I lay there for hours, just watching the

Rises

And falls of his breath; somehow it  
Made me feel centered.  
It reassured me that it was reality,  
That he wasn't a mutt there to rip away my humanity;  
Just a sleeping Dorian there to watch over me.

When he woke up,  
I shrank back into  
The blankets,  
Peering out at him,  
all my certainty  
draining away into  
**dread.**  
He seemed surprised  
That I was conscious;  
I was surprised too.  
He said my name as if  
Trying to discern  
Whether or not I was  
A dream.  
_You're okay_  
He said finally.  
His hand reached out  
To touch my face;  
I swatted it away,  
Burrowing deeper  
Into the comfort of  
The blankets.  
_It's okay. You're alright  
Now. It's me; Dorian._  
I shook my head,  
shuffling back into the  
bed frame.  
His face was a swirl of  
Concern. _It's okay.  
It's just me._  
I whimpered as  
His warm, calloused fingers  
Brushed my freezing arm.  
He pulled me close to his  
Chest. I could hear his  
Heartbeat, steady and unchanging  
Beneath my ear.  
I struggled and fought,  
Trying to leave his grasp,  
Certain it was a trick.  
That he would turn into  
A mutt and that was that.  
Tears poured from my eyes,  
And I began to scream as  
I tried to tear away.  
He released me, looking  
On with sadness. _What…  
What did they do to you?_

I still can't give him a straight answer.


End file.
